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A long time ago, Chuuya Nakahara was given a gift. Something he held quite dear, even now. He can still remember the gifter, a stupid mackerel, smirking at him seeing that he still had it on the very same hat he insulted as ‘tacky’.
Gift giving went a bit like this… It was two in the morning, the light of day still far away. Chuuya was deep in his empty slumber, curled up with the drifting thought of his dead comrades in his mind. But, disturbed, he soon wakes wide-eyed.
Sitting up, Chuuya’s ears perk at the faint crash from outside his bedroom. He lived alone in his apartment, and the noise was sudden though strange. He was used to the silence of his home, so naturally the sound was very… unnatural (obviously).
Chuuya quietly slides from under his blanket and lets his two feet meet the floor. He rests a hand over the knife strap around his leg he keeps on in case of a nightly emergency, one like this.
The ginger makes his way out from his bedroom door, toes pressing into the floorboards and releasing long, eerie creeks. Nothing could stop the master of martial arts, the one and only Nakahara Chuuya, but it was funny. Because in particular, on this very particular night- or perhaps morning- it was February 14th. And that realization made him stop when he turned on the light of his living room, and saw a bandaged man halfway through his apartment window.
Chuuya stood silently in the corridor, blinking. A groggy confusion and perhaps irritation laced his voice as he asked, “...What the hell?” His eyes twitched under the dim light as his gaze landed on that weird, hideous smirk of the current intruder that he somehow didn’t tackle to the floor yet.
“Heya Chuuya, how’s it going?”
A beanpole with frilly chestnut hair and one good dark red eye (the other covered by some bandages) tilted his head at him. Chuuya barely responded, a side of his lip raised in near disgust.
“Weren’t expecting me, were ya?” The beanpole struggled through the slim crack he managed to make after probably climbing up 6 stories and breaking the lock on the originally shut window. He soon fell head-first and flopped onto the ground like a fish. Specifically a blue mackerel that had found itself in the sky on an unfortunate day.
He twisted and turned a bit before finally finding himself on his feet, his hand using Chuuya’s luxurious red armchair with golden buttons for support. He dusted his suit off and tossed his coat on the chair with a small twist of his foot, stretching out. Now, Chuuya's greatly expensive furniture was worthless, covered in dirty DNA of a dumbfuck, stinky fish.
Chuuya simply asked, “Oi Dazai, what are you doing here?” He didn’t even want to start taking this bullshit.
“I just wanted to visit my dog… it’d be criminal to leave him alone on such an important day,” the man sings.
“...What?”
“Don’t you know!” Dazai twirls around, reaching in his pocket as he dances his way toward Chuuya. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Stupid dog!”
They both came face to face. “It’s 2 AM ! The day started 2 hours ago !” Chuuya suddenly felt very awake. Only the Demon Prodigy himself could do this to him. That bastard! Who does he think he is?! Chuuya then narrows his eyes. “Also, I know it’s Valentine’s Day, idiot.”
“I just wanted to get to Chuuya before anyone else did… but, anyhow, here.” Dazai pulls a silver something from his pocket, flicking his hand as it flies through the air. Chuuya catches it with ease, though was slightly taken aback. He looks down and raises a brow. The taller one smiles and adds, “I got you a gift.”
It was a thin, metal chain, crafted with both rounded and slim iron beads. The material was smooth and cold to the touch, obviously high quality. Where on Earth could he find something like this? Chuuya looks up at Dazai. “Why?”
He chuckles. “Why not?” He pauses, looking back and forth from Chuuya and the gift. “Does Chuuya not like it?” While it seemed like a genuine question, a hint of mock was in it as if he knew the answer already. The ginger huffed.
“No, it’s… actually pretty nice. Thanks.” He twirls it in his fingers. “Where’d you even get this… and what is it, actually? A necklace or something?” Chuuya raises it to his neck and Dazai scoffs.
“No, stupid chibi!”
“Hah?” Chuuya blinks and his eye twitches as Dazai grabs the chain from his hands. “Oi! Where are you going?!” He watched Dazai walk past him and down the hall of his apartment. He then scowls. “At least take your damn shoes off!...”
He follows Dazai toward the front door, where the brunet takes his favorite (and really the only one he wears during mafia duty) hat.
“What are you doing with that?” There came no response, Dazai turned to the door as he focused on playing around with it and the chain. “...Daz-”
“See, chibi? This is how it’s supposed to be.”
Dazai suddenly spins back around, letting the hat hang from his fingertip. Chuuya squints his eyes in the darkness and sees the chain is clipped to the brim of his hat. His eyes widened slightly. “You got me a hat accessory?”
“Sure did.” He smiles, tossing it over for Chuuya to catch once more. “I had to show my precious dog because he’s much too braindead to understand my generosity…”
“You could have just told me… plus, no one gets me any hat typa shit, Dazai.” Chuuya sighs, and Dazai snickers.
He can see the bastard’s eye glow. “Well, then I’m the first.” His smirk curls into a softer expression. “Aren’t I?”
“...I guess you are.”
Silence washes over them both, but it’s comfortable. A quietness that two lovers would share, side by side in bed. Or an owner and his beloved furry companion, as it rests its head on his shoulder. But, even then, these two stood a foot away. Dazai watches as Chuuya glazes his eyes over his hat and its new charm. A pale blue light of a passing car in the streets seeps in through the window across the room, illuminating the young man and his glittering, silver gift.
Soon, this silence is broken by a hum and Dazai’s footsteps, which made their way past Chuuya. “It’s late, and stupid Mori-san’s assigned me a few jobs.” He finally says, as if not wanting to admit it, “I’m heading out now.”
Chuuya doesn’t move from his spot, and doesn’t meet his gaze. He just simply stands there, in a loose shirt and sleeping shorts. After all, he really wasn’t sure what to say. There wasn’t much that came to mind. But instead, a desire, in honor of February 14th.
“Hey, stupid Dazai.”
“Hm?”
The brunet turns, already halfway into the living room corridor. He was quick to perk his ears and simply listen. And he didn’t mind waiting for Chuuya to continue his abrupt sentence.
“..Uh, well.” Chuuya was wondering if he should just dismiss his stupid thought. Say nevermind, and watch the lanky weirdo leave his apartment. But he didn’t actually want that. And he should be honest, shouldn’t he? Like Dazai never was, anyway. To make up for his flaws.
“...You’re welcome to stay.”
Silence. Complete, utter, and honest silence.
“...Pardon?” Dazai asks in a higher tone.
Chuuya scoffs, setting his accessorised hat on the rack and folding his arms. “You heard me. I’ve got room, and it’s late. Apparently it’ll rain soon. You really want to go out like that?” He leans against the wall.
“Awh… is Chuuya worried about me?” the other coos.
Indifferently, he replies, “No, I’m not. I just think you’re too much of an idiot to take care of yourself so I might as well hand out the invitation.” He straightens and starts walking toward his bedroom, past Dazai. Then he stops and looks over at him with a raised brow. “So?”
“...Well, I can’t decline such an offer from my Valentine.” He hums.
“I never agreed to being your Valentine…”
Dazai gleefully wraps an arm around Chuuya’s shoulder. “Well, you took my gift, so surely that’s an acception!”
“That’s not how it works!” Chuuya hit him over the head, making the taller pout. At this, he only sighs. “But, fine, I’ll be your Valentine. Shoulda just asked me.”
“Owie! Chuuya’s so mean… but I’m glad.” He grins, smiling ear-to-ear. “How about I accompany you to bed now?”
The ginger rolls his eyes.. “Fine, fine. You’re so impatient.” A small smirk forms on his lips as Dazai half-drags him along. They could barely see each other in the darkness, and surprisingly didn’t bump into more than three things as they walked about the apartment this fine night, but the tone was still there.
The tones of appreciation, the color of love.
That was what Valentine’s Day was about, after all.
As they crawled into Chuuya’s boring white sheets and shut their eyes, backs turned to one another, the liveliness didn’t die. Chuuya thought, hey, this really isn’t so bad. And Dazai was already half-passed out from his unavowed exhaustion, but that was probably for the best. Even if not face-to-face, even with the window still left unlocked as a pointer to a dramatic entrance, even if this was the only night they’d shamelessly spend like this- without a word of judgement or consideration- it was nice. Quite, very nice.
***
The next morning, unsurprisingly, Chuuya found no one beside him in bed. Dazai had already left. But he honestly expected him to, so it was whatever… But, Chuuya couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed to not see the golden face of his partner underneath the morning sun.
Aside from that, however, the alarm had buzzed off already minutes ago and he was already carrying himself groggily around his apartment to get ready for work that day. Dressed and washed up, Chuuya decides to grab a quick bite to eat on his way to the post office, which was actually in the path of the Mafia Headquarters.
His routine rarely changed, but today he’d (unknowingly) make an exception.
Chuuya suddenly remembered something as he was putting on his shoes. He rushes to his clean, untouched living room and finds that cushiony red armchair. A black coat hung from its side. Chuuya scoffs, trying to lift the window that it stood beside and failed.
He remembered to lock the window but forgot his coat… the idiot.
Chuuya grabs it and rushes to leave for work. He was already running a bit late, so he’d have to hurry if he wanted to get all of his morning tasks done. But, as he picks up his usual hat from the rack, he can’t help but stop to admire its chain. At first, he wondered where it was from, but he proudly sets it on his head and strides out his door. Wearing it as a reminder of a man he knew and found quite dear to his heart.
At a bakery, smelling of fresh raisin croissants and black coffee (perfect for his quick breakfast), he gets quite a few ‘Nice hat!’s, even along his way in and out of the Post Office. Chuuya hadn’t ever been told that, and he was a regular around these streets. He was almost completely sure that this was the mackerel’s fault, but he couldn’t really admit it. Not that he wouldn’t, he just didn’t want to. But it did make him smile a bit more brightly that morning.
Chuuya is walking down the street with a piece of toast hanging from his mouth when he whiffs the scent of delicious, fresh chocolates and is bombarded with the bright colors of reds and pinks. The sights of balloons and hearts surrounded Yokohama’s billboards and decorations. He was honestly surprised. After all, Chuuya hadn’t really noticed that Valentine’s Day was celebrated so thoroughly ever before but… he wasn’t complaining. It was nice to have some spark for a change
There was suddenly a call from a shop beside him.
“Chuuya-san?” A low, deep voice greets him. When Chuuya turns, he’s met by the face of a boy with dark hair with white tips. Chuuya raises a brow.
“ Akutagawa ? What are you doing here?” He seems puzzled.
“I was on my way to HQ, but…” Akutagawa presents the bag he got. “A man from that store was advertising good items, so I decided to take a brief shopping trip.” He gestures to the shop he was just in, and Chuuya raises a brow.
“Oh, I see. You have a Valentine? I assume those are gifts.” Chuuya points to the paper bag and Akutagawa shakes his head.
“No," Akutagawa murmured quietly. Chuuya, frantic, was about to apologize. He wasn't sure why he immediately thought the cold mafioso boy he worked with would ever have a valentine, though he didn't get a chance to say anything. Akutagawa continued, "...but I am buying them for Dazai-san…”
The ginger sighs. “Dazai, huh?” He looks down at the black trench coat he still flopped over his arm, and then glances back at the store. He hums in thought, but his daydream is interrupted by Akutagawa’s voice.
“Shall we walk to the building together?” he asks politely. He was always really respectful and calm when he wasn’t focused on his murderous missions. He actually seemed to like Chuuya a bit, but perhaps more out of seniority.
Chuuya shakes his head. “You go on without me.” He waves his hand and starts walking toward the store. Maybe he could spare a bit of time as well… just a few minutes. That was all.
***
The afternoon was quick to fade into sunset. The day had gone by quite quick, but soon enough Spring would come and paint the trees with their rightful leaves. Winter only left a few hours to stand, it felt.
But, no matter how much he contemplated it, Dazai never found an actual reason to care. It was nature. Science. Why think about something as ridiculous as that?
He was losing his train of thought and jumping to some stupid topic all day. It was strange, he couldn’t find himself sticking to anything today. Maybe he was just trying to avoid thinking of a certain shorty all day, so his brain was just so caught up in so many things he simply… lost all capability to focus properly on anything important.
Maybe that was why he was walking so slow to his office.
Dazai soon opens a wooden door. The Agency was as busy as always, and he saw all the familiar faces he’s been with for a bit now. He greeted his co-workers with a smile and carefully set up his daily boobytrap for Kunikida at his desk (the man was off running errands that day), with Atsushi watching in concern.
He takes a seat with a smug smile, spinning around in his seat. He hums a suicidal tune, enjoying this lovely day. Lovely, though lonely. It was White Day. He should be going out and finding some beautiful women, but the gifts he received on the holiday a month prior composed of a bunch of bombs! On that day, he hadn’t gotten any cute gifts, so what was there to return?!
Dazai groans and stops spinning, folding his arms and pouting like a child. But in that moment, he realized there was something on his desk by his cup of pencils. A heart, and a folded up beige jacket. He smiles and straightens, flexing his hands.
Then, he picked up the heart-shaped box. It was tied together with a pink ribbon and a notecard was slid underneath. Smirking, Dazai unraveled the ribbon and opened the box with a bright glint in his eyes.
His kouhai peeked over, curious. “Dazai-san? What are you…” Atsushi begins, but his eyes widen. “You have a Valentine?!” He was, clearly and fairly, in disbelief.
Inside the box were tiny chocolates separated by white napkins. The brunet giggles. “Ah, Atsushi-kun, do you understand the delight of having a Valentine?”
“...Not really?”
“Well! Look no further! I don’t either!”
“Huh?” The boy seemed very puzzled. “But then… what’s that?”
“This is a gift, not from my Valentine. But from my pet dog!”
“HUH?”
Dazai refused to elaborate further and snatched up a chocolate from the box. He tosses it in the air and lets it drop into his mouth as if he were doing a circus trick. He chews indifferently and sets the folded coat on his lap. He takes the notecard he set to the side, already knowing what it’d say, but gladly reading it either way.
You left your coat at my place again, idiot. But Happy White Day, enjoy the chocolates. They’re from the store you like. Love, C.N.
Only on this grand day of Valentine would his lovely, precious Chuuya ever mention love or happiness. Dazai sighs, shaking his head. “The shrimp thinks I’m listening to him…” Despite that, he forces down a huge, stupid grin. The 14th of two months was the same every year since he was young. A missing coat, some chocolates as reward, and a tiny crime at midnight.
Every year.